Second Life
by ArmoredSoul
Summary: What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else? Initial concept: “Life of a Symbiote” Original Character centric. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else?

Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

--

One:

"-transfusion. The shift is a rather dramatic one, so it may take a considerable amount of time for him to adjust properly."

"Of course. And when do you think he'll wake up?"

Sound. Loud. Voices. Words. Vanessa?

"The transformation was completed rather recently, but in truth, there is very little known to medical science concerning these symbiotic life forms. It could take anywhere from a month to merely twenty-four hours before Matthew regains full consciousness."

Matthew. Name. Mine? Don't know, sounds familiar though.

"Oh, a-alright. I-I'll come back tomorrow."

I know that voice, soft and sweet like an angel's song. Vanessa. My Vanessa. And she sounds like she close to tears.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Weston. We're doing the best we can for your fiancée."  
"…Thank you, doctor."

The light clicking of hard soled shoes on a tile floor, a door closing.

I can sense something has changed, something important. I just… Know. And it kind of scares me, this feeling that something is not as it should be. I try to calm myself, listening for that beautiful voice, the one thing I recognize. But it's only the doctor now, talking to an assistant about some such level of something or other. No Vanessa. She's gone, and I don't know where she went. And now I really am scared. I can hear lots of different things now, beeping and clicking and bubbling, but I ignore the background noise. Vanessa, where are you?!

Something cold brushes against me, and I flinch away from the sudden contact, a fluid movement of my entire being that presses me up against something smooth and curved. The motion scares me even more. It feels wrong, foreign. Like I'm not supposed to be able to move that way. Fear takes ahold of me, and with it, an unyielding need to run, to escape and hide away until I can figure out what's going on.

When the cold thing touches me again, I grab it, latch on with extensions of my own mass and continue to cling when the thing pulls away. I feel a strange rushing sensation, something washing over me, then _everything_ is cold. Mid-winter in Alaska kind of cold. The intense temperature change causes me to vocalize my distress, a sharp keening like an injured animal. Voices, the doctor and the assistant, shouting in alarm, though I don't know what for. Something warm nearby, that peculiar sense again, but this time with a direction. And visuals.

Fuzzy blobs of color at first, though the blobs quickly come into focus. I see an older man looming over me, his kind face frozen in an expression of near-terror as he looks down at me, hanging from the metal implement he holds outstretched in one hand. He is the source of the warmth, and I'm so cold, I can't stop myself, coiling up the tool into his sleeve. Warm, so warm, the life pulsing just under his skin. I wrap myself around his wrist, somehow becoming a skin-tight band as I soak up his heat. The warmth, the life, it feels so good, I just want to be a part of it. And I can feel my body reacting to this want, this need as instinctual as the need to breed. Bits of myself melding with him, like the ingredients of a recipe combining to become something far greater than the sum of its parts.

_Wait, stop!_

I pause as I begin to swirl over his knuckles, hearing this voice not mine in my mind.

_Yes?_

The man's eyes go wide, and I can feel his heart rate speed up.

_I don't want to bond with you!_

_Bond? Warm…_

His expression quickly fades from near-terror to curiosity, though I can tell he is still rather well spooked.

_Are you cold?_

_Yes. Cold. Bad._

_The tank is warm. Would you like to go back?_

_Tank?_

I follow his gaze, and realize the metal tool is still outstretched over a cylindrical tank of greenish fluid. So that's where I was. But I don't want to go back into the tank. I want-

_Vanessa._

_Vanessa?_

_Vanessa. Want. Where?_

_I'll get her for you. Will you wait in the tank?_

I have to think on that a moment, reluctant to leave the living warm thumping through the doctor's veins, but the answer he wants is made all to clear by his accelerated hear rate.

_Yes._

He exhales a relieved sigh, and waits patiently as I extricate myself from the accidental bonding. My body screams at me, wanting so badly to be part of something more, but I force myself back into the tank, for Vanessa's sake if anything else. The doctor visibly relaxes the moment I slip off the end of the metal tool, not caring that I catch myself on the tank's edge so that I might pull out the moment I see Vanessa.

"Mrs. Carlson, would mind calling ahead to the lobby to catch Miss Weston before she leaves?"

I watch the mousey-looking assistant nod and rush over to an old-fashioned corded phone mounted on the wall by the door. Contented by the fact that I would soon see my beloved Vanessa at last, I allowed myself to relax a little and take a look around.

The place was obviously scientific in nature, judging from all the beakers and test tubes lying around, but also medical, as I could see a gurney pushed off the side by an IV rack. Other than that, I really didn't understand much of the place, though I had a sneaking suspicion that I should know something more. With nothing better to do, I decided I'd better look myself over. Not much to see really.

A bit of an amorphous blob of blackish-gray goo, though I could move under my own power and form an abundance of tendril-like appendages at will. For a moment, when I first glimpsed a part of myself, I panicked, a sense of wrongness terrifying in its intensity. But it quickly died, as I realized that I really hadn't the slightest clue as to what I might possibly be supposed to look like. It wasn't long after I examined myself that the door was flung open, crashing into the wall and bringing all focus to the lone entrance.

_Vanessa!_

She stood in the gaping doorway, panting like she'd just run a four minute mile, the goddess of my waking dreams. Tall, athletically slender, her cropped raven curls framing a pale heart-shaped face and accentuating her brilliant aquamarine eyes. I could not suppress a delighted cry at the sight of her, pulling myself up out of the tank despite the chill as I extended a number of tendrils in her direction. Her beautiful smile cast in my direction only made me happier.

"Matthew!"

Vanessa. My beloved, angelic Vanessa. Barely three strides of her long legs, and she gathered me up in her arms, holding me close in an embrace I returned whole-heartedly, swirling up her arm and around her neck in a moment.

_VanessaVanessaVanessa!_

She laughed, a soft tinkling sound that lifted my joy into the far reaches of euphoria, so much so I could have sworn I was floating on air.

"I hate to interrupt…"

All merriment came to a screeching halt as the doctor spoke up. I wanted to snap at him, hit him, something for ruining the reunion. Judging from his apologetic expression, Vanessa was quite vividly broadcasting her own distaste.

"My apologies, but there is still a battery of tests to run."

"_What for?_"

Her voice and mine, intertwined. Ah, bliss.

"Memory recall, mostly. Just in case the transformation lost something in translation."

"_And the 'mostly'?_"

The man swallowed audibly. Not a particularly good sign.

"We'll need to test his abilities and weaknesses, for safety's sake."

"_You mean in case he takes over my body and goes on a murderous rampage._"

I froze, stricken by my beloved's venomous words. Never, not in a thousand, thousand years, would I ever do something like that to my dear Vanessa. Never! Would I? It hurt to even consider the prospect, but that didn't make it entirely impossible. Vanessa gave the mental equivalent of a snicker.

_Always the pessimist._

I responded with a loud telepathic raspberry, which made Vanessa giggle audibly. The doctor gave us an odd look, but continued.

"Anything is possible, Miss Weston. Especially in your situation."

I felt her frown, and I could tell she was pondering something, but she wasn't directing her thoughts to me, so I hadn't the slightest clue as to what in the world the man was blabbering about.

_What's wrong?_

A sense of unpleasant surprise flashed across our growing bond, along with a mixture of sadness and anxiety that made me nervous.

_You don't remember, do you._

_Remember what?_

I felt her retreat from the bond, pulling away from me and back into her own head, where I could not contact her.

_Vanessa? Vanessa?!_

"How long will the tests take, Dr. Halburton?"

"It depends upon your fiancée's cooperation in the matter, but we should have full results by the end of a two week period."

"And when might I be able to take him home?"

She stroked her fingers down the arm I had coated, a gentle touch I wanted so badly to return but didn't know how.

_Vanessa!_

"I'd like to keep him overnight for observation, just to make sure he's stable enough for exterior exposure. But you should be able to sign him out tomorrow morning."

At those words, I felt as if the frozen atmosphere had been injected into my heart. No, no, no, NO! I threw myself at my beloved's mental barrier, trying desperately to get through and reconnect our bond.

_No! Vanessa! Don't leave me! PLEASE!_

But she pushed me away, forced me to draw back into myself until I was only me again, a quivering blob of gray goop lying in her palm. A pained whimper was the only sound I could make as my beloved Vanessa placed me back in the tank, sliding my form off her fingers into the heated fluid.

"The tales of your mental prowess are not unfounded, I see."

"I've been practicing."

She talked to the doctor for a few more minutes, solidifying an appointment schedule for the testing before she turned to leave. I pressed myself up against the curved glass, wanting so badly to be close to her, a part of her, once more.

_Vanessa…_

She paused at the door, her hand on the doorknob as she gazed back over her shoulder, a forlorn expression on her delicate features as she looked upon me. Tears gathered in her eyes, tiny glittering liquid diamonds of sadness. And then, she was gone, the door slamming shut.

I slumped back into the tank with a pitiful whine, a terrible aching emptiness where my Vanessa was once a part of me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else?

Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

--

Two:

The doctor and his assistant spent the next few hours cleaning up, sanitizing instruments and sorting through files. A small video camera was set up, its feed connected to a computer terminal that had seen better days. I watched listlessly as the pair struggled with the mess of wires, too depressed to find amusement in the doctor shocking himself on accident. Eventually, the camera set up was completed, its lens focused on my tank, and the assistant said her goodbyes. Not long after, the doctor packed up as well, locking the heavy steel door behind him.

The room is quiet, the only sounds coming from the tank regulation systems and the video camera, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

_Vanessa…_

I don't even try to suppress the pained whimper that comes with her name.

_She left me._

Why? Oh God, WHY?!

My beloved angel, the only person I have ever known to care for me as much as I do her, and she _left_ me. She wasn't even forced. Pushed me away of her own free will, then just up and left. I curled in on myself with a moan, wishing I could cry.

The pain of her rejection, of her-her _betrayal_, yes, betrayal sounds about right. Vanessa betrayed me. Made me remember her, my lover for her, and responded in kind, only to have her _leave_ me.

Rage boiled within me, a rattling hiss expressing my ire to the world. I could feel my body shift and change, a strange sort of metamorphosis fueled by fury. Greenish fluid splashed out onto the floor, displaced by my expanding mass. The tank is suddenly too small, it's curved glass confining. But that is easily remedied, as I extend myself beyond the pitiful barrier, grabbing onto the creaking table supporting my container. With one fluid motion, I'm out, tumbling to the tile floor with a wet splat. It hurt, the impact, but I ignored it as I formed myself a proper body from the amorphous mass of my flesh. Two arms, two legs, bipedal and roughly humanoid. But there are sharp talons instead of fingers, eyes simply wide white patches over a lipless mouth filled with jagged fangs.

Cocking my newly-formed head to one side, I gave the video camera a poisonous glare before grabbing the obnoxious thing and crushing it into components with my bare hands. For a moment, I contemplated obliterating the lab, simply to express my extreme displeasure, but ultimately decided against it. There was something far more important occupying my thoughts.

"_Vanessa…_"

Suppressing an agonized whine at my beloved's beautiful name, I launched myself at the concrete wall, adhering effortlessly to the vertical surface. Within moments, I had opened the skylight and slipped out onto the facility's flat roof.


	3. Chapter 3

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else?

Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

--

Three:

The outdoor temperature hit me hard, the intense cold freezing me in a low crouch at the skylight's edge. I shook off the paralysis after a moment, rising to my feet to take in my surroundings. Surprisingly, the district, quiet and dark this late, seemed familiar, though I hadn't the slightest clue as to why.

A moment to get my bearings, then I just started to run, bolting the length of the building quick as thought. The roof edge dropped behind me as I leapt out into the void, landing in a neat crouch atop the parking garage four stories down and some thirty feet over. Some small part of me was wondering why I wasn't afraid, why this felt so natural, but I ignored it as I leapt again, the dark maw of a shadowed alley passing beneath me.

Little did I know that my escape from the facility had not gone as I might have hoped, a shadowed figure leaping gracefully from rooftop to rooftop a few blocks behind me.

The industrial district eventually tapered off into a residential neighborhood. I perched atop one of the telephone poles, seeking the proper dwelling. A lingering sense of familiarity led me to a small two-story house with a nice wrap-around porch and neatly groomed lawn. Not surprisingly, all but one of the windows were locked up tight, curtains drawn. Vanessa always did enjoy listening to the white noise of the city. Silent as a stalking feeling, I crawled head-first down the siding, crouching upside down as I took a peek into the room.

There she was, my beloved angel, fast asleep on the double bed with one hand flopped next to a picture frame on her nightstand. I flipped down onto the windowsill, perching there a moment before actually stepping into the room. Barely two steps put me at her bedside, my considerable bulk looming over her slumbering form. Gazing down upon her, I felt my anger dissolve into nothing. How could I ever think my beloved Vanessa would betray me? I reached out, talons morphing into fingers as I ran a trembling hand through her soft curls. As I continued stroking her hair, my gaze followed her outstretched arm to that lone picture frame, but the moonlight glinted off glass. Careful not wake her, I leaned forward, reaching over to tilt the frame so I could see. It was a photograph, a rather nice one actually, of Vanessa in the arms of a young man, athletically built with tousled auburn hair and brilliant green eyes. And I suddenly found myself unable to breathe as I realized just who he was.

Matthew James Glendale, twenty-six, engaged to be married in two months time. He was a botanist, hoping to finish an illustrated children's book on the life cycle of plants. Grew up on a farm in Montana, but moved to the NYC to finish his education. Allergic to peanuts and almonds, favorite food being Chinese rice noodles. Slept with a nightlight until he was sixteen because he was afraid of the dark. The reason I knew all this, the reason I knew his deepest, darkest secrets was because I _was_ him. Repressed memories assaulted me from all sides, pummeling my mind into submission with the blatant truth. I stumbled back, tripping over the carpet and slamming into the wall as I clutched my head into both hands, whimpering in pain as I slid down to the floor. The meeting with the wedding planner, Vanessa suggesting we go out for dinner. Going to hail a taxi, the runaway armored truck. Shoving Vanessa out of harm's way. Excruciating pain. Sirens, lights, an ambulance. The experimental procedure. I curled into a tight ball, pressing myself against the wall as a soft keening slipped away from me. No wonder Vanessa fled my presence.

_Oh God, I'm a freak! Not even human!_

My dying human self had become an alien Symbiote, a creature that had crash landed on Earth some three years ago. Biologists all over the world clamored for the opportunity to study the amorphous goo, myself included. Now I was experiencing the alien's existence first hand. I heard the bed sheets rustle, and dragged myself to my feet, stumbling to the window where I braced myself on the sill. Bad enough that I was an alien species, my escape and subsequent trespassing would give Vanessa more than enough reasons to end our relationship.

"Matthew? Issat you?"

Her soft, sleep-fogged voice made my heart skip a beat. Oh dear Lord, I can't let her see me like this! Panicking, I leapt from the window, aiming for the next rooftop over, but found I had over estimated the distance, missing the landing entirely. I scrambled for grip on the ceramic tile roof, my fingernails digging into the terra cotta, which only loosened the tiles. With a sound like a hundred plates shattering all at once, I fell.

"MATTHEW!"

The impact was bone-shattering, made worse by about 60 pounds of shattered clay crashing down on top of me. A normal person would have been seriously injured, though that didn't mean it no longer hurt. With a pained groan, I dragged myself out from under the pile of broken shards, flopping to the ground in a listless black heap. I heard the close-cropped grass crackle, and a fabric boot stepped into my vision, its brilliant scarlet color overlaid with a vaguely familiar black web pattern.

"Well, that's a first."

Something stirred deep down inside me, triggered by that snarky, smart-alec voice, rousing an incredible rage that gnawed on my insides like a ravenous wolf. A low, bestial growl rumbled from deep in my chest, to which the red boot took a step back.

"Uh-oh…"

Razor-sharp talons sprouted from my fingertips, and I felt my face split into the fanged maw from before. Pain forgotten, I pulled myself up into a low crouch, glaring up into the wide, white-eyed gaze of New York's Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.


	4. Chapter 4

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else?

Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

--

Four:

Traitor. Betrayer. A dark voice chanted these words in my head, pinning them to the web-slinger standing before me. I didn't understand why I hated him so, but something inside me wanted to tear the hero limb from limb and sup from his mangled corpse. The vision of scarlet fluid dripping from my talons was frightening, yet strangely pleasurable to that sadistic inner presence. Snarling, I felt my muscles tense, long talons tearing into the lawn in anticipation of the coming bloodshed.

"Matthew!"

I froze, snarl catching in my throat as Vanessa's voice sliced through the fog of rage. No, no, NO! She can't see me, not like this! That dark whisper was shoved aside by sheer panic as I sought to flee, lurching painfully to my feet and stumbling back until I tripped over a roof tile, crashing to the ground amidst the terra cotta shards. Before I had a chance to right myself, Vanessa came skidding around the porch, grabbing onto the railing to keep herself from falling in the grass. Her hair was a mess, all spiked and rumpled from sleep, and she wore nothing but an oversized T-shirt I remembered giving her when we were first dating. She looked right at me, her eyes going wide in surprise before filling with tears.

"Matthew…"  
The pain, the hope in her voice shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. In less than a moment, Vanessa had bolted across the lawn and practically threw herself into my arms, her tears dampening my shoulder as she huddled against me.

"I thought I'd lost you…"

A jolt of pain drilled into my very soul at the sorrow choking the angelic voice of my beloved, and I found myself nuzzling her cheek as I drew her close, embracing her with a soft whine.

"_Vanessa…_"

My voice sounded so foreign, raspy and deep, totally different from the one drifting freely through my human memories. I couldn't help but shudder at the sound, curling my fingers into her hair and rest my head on her shoulder.

"_I'm so sorry…_"

"Don't be."

She reached up, looping her arms around my neck and snuggling against what passed for my collar bone. A soft cough pulled us both back into reality.

"I hate to interrupt the mushy love fest, but I think maybe the current situation calls for some kind of explanation."

I glared up at the vibrantly costumed hero, feeling that inexplicable rage rise within me at the mere sight of him. The spider took a step back, obviously expecting some sort of violent outburst, something I found myself sore tempted to follow up on. Fortunately, Vanessa interjected before the situation could escalate, placing a hand on my chest and giving me a chastening look.

"Relax, Matt. Spidey's alright. And he does have a point."

Before I could protest, she had slipped from my grasp and started for the porch steps.

"Best make ourselves comfortable. This'll take a bit to get through."


	5. Chapter 5

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

Summary: What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else? Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

_Italics_ - thought

"_Italics"_ - symbiote speech

"Normal" - normal speech

---

Five:

Two and a half hours later, I was just about bored to tears. As it turned out, Spidey was something of a science geek behind the mask, and the mention of the experimental procedure had resulted in a bombardment of question Vanessa was all too eager to answer. She sat on my lap as I lounged comfortably upon the padded porch swing, chatting amiably with the heroic arachnid who had perched himself on the narrow wooden railing.

"So, the protein polymers congeal on contact with the exterior atmosphere?"  
"Exactly!"

I suppressed an irritated groan, slumping back against the stiff armrest.

Vanessa might have chosen fashion design as a career, but she'd always had a passion for chemistry. Heck, I first met her in a college chem class! Not that it wasn't interesting, but I found myself growing exceedingly restless, itching to just get up and _do_ something. With a sigh, I let my head flop back, allowing my eyes to fall shut as my free hand trailed down the back of the swing. A slight indent met my fingertips, a small carving deep into the wood that had been painted over too many times to count.

It was a stylized heart, bearing a pair of angelic wings and a halo, with the letters 'MG + VW = TRU LUV' inscribed within. I couldn't help but smile as I traced the carving, remembering the circumstances behind its creation. It had been our second anniversary as a couple, and I'd wanted to do something to celebrate. The letters were carved, and we'd decided to carving every year we were dating, hence the heart and its accoutrements. Can't believe it actually took me five years to get up the nerve to propose. A gentle poke to my ribs roused me from the recesses of my memories, and I lifted my head to see what was up. Vanessa smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head."

"_I wasn't sleeping._"

She shrugged, leaning casually against the swing's padded backrest.

"Sleeping, daydreaming. Either way, you're totally oblivious to your surroundings."

A jerk of a thumb brought my attention to the fact that not only was Spider-Man gone, but the sun was just beginning to rise over the rooftops. It was really quite beautiful, the dawning light painting the purple sky with streaks of orange and pink. For a few moments, I simply observed the display, running my fingers through Vanessa's silky hair as she lay back in my grasp. Then it hit me, like a slap across the face.

"_The lab!_"

I lurched up, nearly throwing Vanessa from my lap. Thankfully, she was able to catch herself on the armrest, though I barely noticed as I scrambled to my feet. She caught my arm as I made to climb up onto the railing, jerking my attention around to her.

"Matthew James Glendale, calm down! What about the lab?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

Summary: What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else? Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

_Italics_ - thought

"_Italics"_ - symbiote speech

"Normal" - normal speech

---

Six:

"Ohmigahd! Ohmigahd!"

Vanessa tightened her death grip around my neck, eyes wide as she watched the ground fall away beneath us. I landed crouched on the adjacent roof, and gave my fiancée a hurt look.

_"Vanessa, you know you're afraid of heights! Why didn't you stay back at the house like I asked you?"_

She answered with a glare, startlingly fierce despite her trembling.

"And leave you to try explaining yourself to those idiots back at the lab? I don't think so, mister stripey pants!"

_"Hey, I like the stripes!"_

It was kind of odd how my appearance had evolved since my trespassing in Vanessa's blank blackness had lightened to a blackish-gray tone, slashes of lighter gray dashed over my shoulders and lower legs, as well as a queer sort of pointed collar in the same pale shade. Vanessa had commented on the changes as we left her residence, asking if I had chosen the design to appear. I hadn't even noticed until she mentioned it. At least I wasn't starting to take after the other two symbiotes residing on Earth. Carnage was a whacked out psychopathic killer in red, and Venom's ebon hide splashed with a stark white spider across the chest had struck enough fear into the people of New York without me unconsciously aggravating the situation.

I shook my head, ridding myself of those most unpleasant thoughts as I made the leap to the next building. Vanessa gave a startled yelp at the sight of five stories worth of dark alleyway flashing beneath us, but didn't cry out like the first time, an occurrence for which I was grateful. Her high-pitched screech had sent needles of agony into every atom of my substance, causing me to partially lose my grip on my humanoid body. I nearly dropped her into the mess I'd made of the neighbor's roof tiles. Vanessa tapped my shoulder, to which I paused in preparing for my next leap and turned my attention to her.

"How're we getting in?"

_"Same way I left, I suppose."_

"And that is?"

Bunching the muscles of my legs, I jumped onto the lab building, adhering to the 8th story window of somebody's office.

_"4 floors up and through the only open skylight."_

I felt Vanessa's grip tighten, and offered my reassurance, embracing her via the numerous tendrils holding her in place upon my back.

_"It's okay. I won't let you fall. Trust me."_  
She nuzzled against my neck, hiding her face as she gave a small nod.

"I do."

Her soft voice, weighted with a volatile mixture of fear and love, made my heart flutter up into my throat. Thus speechless, I sprang up the building, intent upon keeping my beloved fiancée as safe as I could make her. But the moment I clambered up onto the roof, I knew something was wrong.A nagging sense of unease tingled at the base of my skull, putting me on high alert even though the roof space was clear. I quickly bound Vanessa closer, multiple tendrils disguising her presence. She immediately stiffened, but kept quiet as I slowly advanced on all fours, intent upon the skylight hanging open for all the world to see. The tough glass had been shattered, aluminum frame bent in odd angles to further suggest a forced entry even though the lock had not been engaged. Hearing the sound of breaking glass, I stooped down low as I eased forward, folding up into a tight crouch at the window's edge. Carefully, I leaned over to peer into the room below.

And came face to face with a slavering mouthful of massive fangs.

_"There you are."_


	7. Chapter 7

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

Summary: What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else? Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

_Italics_ - thought

"_Italics"_ - symbiote speech

"Normal" - normal speech

---

Seven:

I lurched back from the broken skylight, leaping away as a beefy black arm swung up over the edge, clawed fingers digging into the concrete. Venom's ever drooling maw rose from the empty space, long tongue whipping out to taste the air as the symbiote's bulk squeezed out onto the rooftop. A terrifying grin split the alien's face, it's teeth in glistening disarray.

_"The spawn returns to it's birthing place."_

The villain's voice made shiver, and I found myself frozen as the creature prowled closer with the deadly grace of a stalking predator.

_"How appropriate."_

My words returned first, so I used them to try to buy the time I needed.

_"What do you want?"  
_Venom chuckled, a dark, demonic sound that gave me chills.

_"You, of course. It's not everyday a new entity joins our race."_

An ebony claw lifted in mock salute.

_"Congratulations."_

That nagging, tingling feeling at the base of my neck flared into urgency, and I barely managed to duck a black webline that lashed out at me, darting back several feet to out some distance between myself and the black symbiote. Venom chuckled again, grin widening as he paced closer.

_"You're a quick little sprite, aren't you."_

Another webline, one I hurdled over, landing on one of the building's AC units in a low crouch.

_"What do you want with me?"_

I slid under yet another webline, ducking behind the bulky AC unit.

_"Think about it, spawn. Why else would we seek you?"_

Something about the symbiote's words made me pause. Why did Venom want me? Okay, so I was a new symbiote, a 'spawn' according to the black alien, but from what I'd heard about Carnage, the murderous red menace had been accidentally created by Venom. And the black symbiote had teamed up with Spider-Man to take care of the psycho. Spider-Man. The name alone caused my temper to flare, talons extending from my fingertips, but I _still_ didn't understand why. Perhaps Venom-?

_"Gottcha!"_

I gave a startled yelp as a thick tendril of black ooze pinned my arms to my sides, yanking up into the air before a chance to release Vanessa from my carry-hold. The tendril flipped me around, and I felt my breath catch in my throat at the sight of Venom's ghastly grin not two inches from my face. A broad, thick-fingered hand reached out, grabbing my chin so I was forced to look the black symbiote in the eye.

_"Well, have you figured it out yet? No?"  
_Venom's grin twisted into a scowl, and he took my head in both hands.

_"Then you must not remember."_

I fought back as best I could, but the black symbiote was too strong for me. Then the alien's claws shifted into ooze, and I burst out screaming as foreign memories flooded my mind.


	8. Chapter 8

"Second Life" by ArmoredSoul

A Spider-Man fan fiction

Summary: What if the only way to save the one you love is to turn them into something else? Initial concept: "Life of a Symbiote"

_Italics_ - thought

"_Italics"_ - symbiote speech

"Normal" - normal speech

---

Eight:

_Peter, time for breakfast! How y'doin', kiddo?_

_Dweeb!_

_Puny Parker. Have you ever seen a bigger geek?_

_I don't feel so good._

_How did I do that?_

_I'm- I'm climbing!_

_- the Spectacular Spider-Man!_

Not mine.

_Great power-_

_There goes that plan..._

_-responsibility._

_What happened?_

They're not mine.

_Uncle Ben!_

"Matt-?"

But what is mine?

_The suit. The power!_

I don't know. And it scares me.

"-hew?"

_Feels good._

_-comes great-_

"Matthew?"

_Parker!_

Who am I?

_-pictures for the Bugle._

_Need money._

_Aunt May..._

"Matthew? Are you okay?"

A slender hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I flinched away, curling into a tight quivering ball with a terrified whimper. Conflicting memories swirled through my mind, a tempest of information wreaking havoc upon my sanity. I knew one life was not mine, the experiences of which had been forced upon me, but I couldn't tell one from the other.

_With great power, comes great responsibility._

_"Uncle Ben..."_

"Matthew?"

My fault. It's all my fault. If I hadn't- Hadn't what? Was that even me? Who's the old man? Soft hands cradled my jaw, delicate feminine things I knew belonged to someone I loved, but couldn't remember.

_Face it tiger. You just hit the jackpot._

"M-Mary-Jane?"

"Mary-? It's me, Matthew. Vanessa, remember?"

Red head, green eyes. Black curls? So confused... I reached out, trembling as I wrapped my arms about her slender waist. She embraced me, held me close as I tried to untangle my true self from the mess in my head. A familiar presence, strong and warm, entered my tortured mind. With utmost tenderness, the presence wove in amongst the jumbled chaos, slowly unraveling the two separate lives occupying the innards of my skull. But even split apart, I couldn't tell which was mine and which had been forced upon me. I released a frightened whimper, curling closer to the living heart.

"Shh, baby, I'm here. It's gonna be okay, love."

_-standing in your doorway._

_"Promise?"_

A light pressure upon my forehead, lips pursed in a gentle kiss.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Gunshots echoed through my head like thunder, and I cried out, utterly terrified.

_"No! No! Don't die! PLEASE!"_

I pressed as close as I could, burying my face in her blouse as hot tears spilled down my face.

_"Don't die..."_

Trembling fingers stroked down my neck, cupping my jaw as soft curls brushed my cheek.

"I won't die from a promise, darling. Not so long as you need me."

A relieved sigh slipped away from me, much of the tension with it.

_"Thankyouthankyouthankyou..."_

"My pleasure, baby."

I heard a thump somewhere behind me, and felt her shift to look up.

"What happened?"

That voice. Hard not to know it, with it echoing through half the memories jammed into my head.

_"Peter..."_

My whisper went unheard as Vanessa, for it was surely her, replied to the hero's inquiry.

"Venom happened. Jerk force-fed him someone else's memories, a whole other life."

She heaved a tired sigh, silky curls ghosting against my jawbone as she leaned over to place a kiss on my cheek.

"He's been like this ever since."

Footsteps padded across the cool concrete, and I couldn't help but shudder as a gloved hand alighted upon my shoulder.

"I'm-I'm so sorry..."

I could hear the self-loathing in his tone, the strained whisper echoing through my memories. He blamed himself for Venom's wrong doing. That simply would not do.

_"Not your fault."_

Vanessa struggled to keep her hold on me as I dragged myself almost into a sitting position, grabbing hold of the webslinger's hand as I faced him. Leaning upon my beloved fiancée, I held the hero's gaze, making sure he heard every rasping word.

_"Venom made the decision to attack. You had no influence whatsoever upon that decision. You are NOT responsible for this in ANY way. Understand?"_

Spider-Man's white stylized eyes seemed to widen, taken aback by the sheer vehemence in my words. Finally, he nodded, a slow motion bob of his masked visage.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

_"Good. Mind giving me a hand up then?"_


End file.
